


Here For You

by captainskellington



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainskellington/pseuds/captainskellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not today,” Grantaire whispered. “Please, leave me alone, just for today.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here For You

Looking ahead, Grantaire could see his friends picking their way along the path. He’d slowed his pace so as to draw away from the group, quietly chatting amongst themselves. Combeferre turned to look at him with concern, but said nothing and continued walking with the others.

After all, he out of all of them understood best what he was going through.

Grantaire sighed and drew a hand across his face. He was far too tired for this, too exhausted for this… Too sober for this. Definitely too sober for this.

Others passed by him, people he didn’t know and would never care to, now. They had no idea who he was either. He probably just looked like some stumbling drunk who didn’t even belong here. He didn’t feel like he belonged there. This was all wrong.

He gave a start when he spotted a familiar sight out of the corner of his eye. Enjolras was sitting atop a block of concrete watching him intently, jacket as garishly red as always and long waves of hair held back with a ribbon.

“You okay?” Enjolras asked cautiously, eyes trained on Grantaire’s face as he closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands to them.

“Not today,” Grantaire whispered. “Please, leave me alone, just for today.”

“I can’t do that, I’m afraid; it's the last chance I've got,” Enjolras replied in a quiet tone, and drew his foot up to rest beside him on the block, hugging his knee to his chest. “You should catch up to them, you know.”

“I shouldn’t even be here,” he said. “And neither should you.”

“Yeah, well,” Enjolras grinned and turned his face upwards as though to be touched better by the light of the sun, if the sun hadn't been hidden behind the clouds. But Enjolras always seemed to draw the sun, maybe he could feel it even when it wasn’t there. He was the sun god, after all. “I never was one for doing what I was told. And neither were you, if I recall correctly.”

Grantaire just stared at him with eyes red and bloodshot from tears and lack of sleep.

When Grantaire didn’t reply, Enjolras opened his eyes and turned to look at him again. The final stragglers passed by as Enjolras raised his arms, placing his foot back down on firm ground. “Come here.”

Grantaire hesitated, but it was fruitless. He never could resist Enjolras. Not that he’d ever tried. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and dropping his forehead to rest on Enjolras' shoulder, feeling him wrap his arms around him.

“Enjolras,” he whispered, and the man in question kissed his temple, the slightest pressure ghosting along his skin.

“You can do this,” Enjolras said. “I believe in you.”

Grantaire grinned despite himself, eyes still downcast. “Hey, that’s my line.” He choked down a sob, and his eyes began to brim with tears. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Hey,” Enjolras shook his head. “No, don’t apologise. I wouldn’t begrudge you this.” He paused. “But you know you can’t dry your eyes on my jacket,” he reminded him gently.

Grantaire sniffed and nodded as a tear slipped down his face, raising his head to avoid it falling onto Enjolras. “Some things never change,” he laughed shakily.

“It isn’t that, you know it’s not that,” Enjolras cupped his jaw with one hand, stroking a thumb along his cheekbone. Grantaire tried to lean into it.

“I do, I do know,” Grantaire sighed, skin cold where it touched Enjolras. Sun god or no, the man never radiated heat, and now all he seemed to do was drain it. “I just… I can pretend, right?”

Enjolras bit his lip and shook his head. “I’m afraid not, R. You need to go.”

“I will,” Grantaire swallowed thickly. “I will, just-- tell me I’ll see you again, after today,” he begged, voice a whisper.

“You will see me again,” Enjolras smiled, voice soft. “But I’d rather it was later rather than sooner, if you didn’t mind.”

“I can’t promise you that,” Grantaire said bitterly, with a humourless laugh. “I can’t promise, but I can try.”

“That’s all I ever ask,” Enjolras pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, Grantaire.”

“I love you too, Enjolras,” Grantaire whispered fiercely. “I always have and I always, always will.”

There were a few beats of silence before the chill around them melted away to be replaced by the warm weight of a hand upon Grantaire’s shoulder.

“Grantaire,” came Combeferre’s voice. Grantaire opened his eyes to look down and see the empty surface of the unknown gravestone he was standing beside, tracing patterns mindlessly across the rough concrete. He didn’t need to turn around to see that Combeferre was every bit as exhausted as he was; deep bags from the sleepless nights under his eyes and teartracks marring his otherwise handsome face, much alike Grantaire’s own.

When he did turn, it was to be pulled into a tight hug. Combeferre’s warmth was so different to the chill he’d felt all morning. He bit back another sob and clung tightly to Enjolras’ best friend.

“It’s okay, let it out,” Combeferre murmured despite the trembling shoulders that indicated he wasn’t taking his own advice. “You can do this, we’re all here for you.”

“ _He_ isn’t,” Grantaire choked through his gasps. It hurt to hear his words repeated. “He isn’t, ‘Ferre.”

“And that _sucks._ Believe me, I know,” Combeferre said, pulling away to look Grantaire in the eye. “It sucks, the world fucking sucks, and nothing’s ever going to be the same again. And it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right, and you want to blame somebody, anybody but there’s nobody to blame. But it is what it is, and we’re all going to be lost without him. You more than anyone, I know,” Combeferre gripped his shoulders tightly. “We’re all here for you.”

“It hurts,” Grantaire whimpered, bringing his hands up to cover his face. “It hurts so bad, ‘Ferre. How am I supposed to cope with never seeing him again?”

“I don’t know, R. I just don’t know,” he paused to wipe his eyes with his sleeve, then nudged Grantaire’s hands out of the way to do the same for him. “But we’re just going to have to try. Now, come on, I know he’d expect you to be late, but that doesn’t mean he’d approve.”

Grantaire laughed despite himself. It felt hollow and empty. He could relate.

He allowed himself to be guided by Combeferre’s arm around his shoulders, not seeing anything as he walked. He didn't look back to see if the apparition had reappeared and was watching him, didn't know if he had imagined him or been haunted. He was vaguely aware of stopping by the graveside, of Courfeyrac appearing at Combeferre’s other side and taking his husband’s hand, of Jehan taking his own hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

But he didn’t see any of it.

What he did see was the sun appearing suddenly from a break in the clouds. He lifted his face to the light, remembering every time his fiancé had done the same, basking in the sun, beautiful and young and alive.

Grantaire smiled and closed his eyes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I am so, so sorry for this.  
> I have actually had a lovely day, in case you were wondering, but I had this niggling at me and had to write it.
> 
> I am [cityelf](http://cityelf.tumblr.com), please be gentle.
> 
> Please tell me if there's anything else I should tag this as, I wouldn't want anyone getting more upset than they were looking to be.


End file.
